


I Think You'll Be Good

by AdamantSteve



Series: The Polaroid 'Verse [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Blowjobs, Daddykink, Dirty Talk, Grindr, Hotel Sex, M/M, Non-SHIELD AU, Sugar Daddy, college boy! Clint, in the form of text messages, lawyer!Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt I've since lost, this story charts the meeting and consummation of a relationship between older, wealthy Phil and young, broke college student Clint. Daddykink galore to their mutual satisfaction <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think You'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Dunicha and cheered on by InfiniteEight and people who follow my tumblr :) 
> 
> I literally know nothing about comics so the 616 in Clint's username was a convenient number to go with and has no secret special meaning.

**_Hi Daddy ;)_** _,_ reads Phil's phone, lit up bright in the darkness of his bedroom. He frowns a little bit, because he'd meant to shut down everything before he decided to really go to bed, but he opens Grindr anyway to see just who it is that's presuming to call him such things.

 

Hawkeye616 is his name, and Phil scrolls through his pictures, growing more and more pleased with what he finds. Hawkeye616 is blond, well muscled, he has bright, intense eyes and is all of 21 years old. According to his profile, he's in college, he's 'well groomed', versatile and likes working out. And he just called Phil _Daddy_.

 

 ** _Hello_ , **Phil replies, deciding on going down the same route as the opener. **_It's a little late for a school night, isn't it?_**

 

Hawkeye616 replies right away, which is unusual for such a good looking guy - usually the young, pretty ones cast a wide net, and Phil's used to getting a few copy/pasted messages before never hearing from guys again, clearly having found what they were looking for elsewhere.

 

**Hawkeye616: _Too horny to sleep ;)_**

Phil's eyes flit to the top of the phone - 3.11am. He doesn't really have time for this, but the guy is very cute. _Fuck it,_ he decides, typing in another message; he's never been very good at refusing a pretty face.

 

**AmericanCaptain: _How can I help?_**

**Hawkeye616: _Maybe you should tell me to touch myself._**

 

Phil's typing something back when a picture comes through, and it's poorly lit but obviously the guy's cock, hard and thick, resting against his sculpted abdomen.

Phil licks his lips. It's been a long while since he's even been in the presence of another man's dick and he feels almost ashamed at his pavlovian response to seeing one. Though to be fair, it's a rather nice specimen.

 

**AmericanCaptain: _You should be touching that all the time. I bet you taste delicious._**

 

Phil has his free hand in his boxers brushing over the warm skin of his cock, thinking about that chubby dick in his mouth when a reply comes through.

**Hawkeye616: _I'm touching myself for u. Tell me I'm a good boy?_**

 

Phil's toes curl a little, which is silly, this is all… so silly. 

 

**AmericanCaptain: _You're being a very good boy for me, Hawkeye._**

**Hawkeye616: _Let me see ur dick?_**

 

Phil's pondering how invested he is in this, whether or not he wants to have to scroll back through his messages and delete photos come tomorrow morning, but then Hawkeye sends another message.

 

**Hawkeye616: _Please, daddy? I'll be good x_**

 

It's poorly lit and at a pretty bad angle, but Phil sends the picture before he can think better of it. 

 

 ** _So big_** , comes the reply, **_I want it._**

**AmericanCaptain: _How do you want it, pretty boy?_**

**Hawkeye616: _I wanna suck it, see how u taste. Make u feel good._**

 

Phil pushes his underwear down and slicks up his hand with spit.

 

 ** _Let me see your asshole_ ,** Phil says, and he's not usually this… direct when he does this kind of thing but it's so _late_ , and he's suddenly so turned on by this perfect little routine that he decides he's done waiting. There's a long moment during which Phil scrolls up to see Hawkeye's cock again, flips back to look at the photos of him smiling, his ridiculously beautiful physique, and he thinks perhaps his demand was the deal breaker, and he'll never hear from him again. But then there's a new message, and a photo loading.

 

 ** _Freshly waxed ;)_** it says, and there it is - a tight, round ass with the sweetest little pink asshole Phil's ever seen. True to his word, there's not a hair in sight. Even the balls between his legs seem to be bare. Phil licks his lips again. 

 ** _Very nice_ , **he sends off. **_I like a nice clean boy._**

 

 ** _I'm gna cum soon,_ ** Hawkeye replies, sending another photo of his hand wrapped around his cock. Phil speeds up, phone falling onto the bed as he hits his stride and comes, spurting over his belly to vivid imaginings of his tongue sliding over that delightfully smooth ass.

 

When he picks up the phone again, blinking so he can see properly, there are three messages waiting for him.

 

 ** _Tell me to cum, daddy,_ ** reads the first, followed by, 

**_please?_ **

**_where did u go?_ **

 

**AmericanCaptain: _Sorry! I dropped my phone. You got me all worked up._**

 

Phil snaps a picture of his belly before cleaning it off with tissues, sending it along with a **_;)_** , which, out of everything, he feels the most self conscious about.

 

There's a long pause before the next message, during which Phil worries that the boy got bored of waiting for him and left, but just as he's pulling his underwear back up, a picture comes through that mirrors his own, only this time translucent white is striped across a perfectly toned, waxed sixpack. 

 

 ** _I couldn't wait,_ ** Hawkeye says.

Phil grins lazily, post-orgasm high leaving him sleepy and sated. 

**AmericanCaptain: _Think you can sleep now?_**

**Hawkeye616: _Wish u were here to cuddle xx_**

**AmericanCaptain: _Me too._**

 

Phil falls asleep before the last message lights up the room, only reading it when he wakes up. It says, **_goodnight, daddy xxx_**

 

-

 

Phil wakes with his alarm, the previous night forgotten til he blearily spots the spent tissues on the floor beside the bed. He showers and gets dressed, deleting photos of himself and that delightful boy before picking up his briefcase and heading to work.

 

-

 

**Hawkeye616: _Are you there?_**

Phil momentarily boggles at his phone before unlocking it; this app doesn't seem to want to switch off. 

**AmericanCaptain: _I'm at work._**

**Hawkeye616: _But I'm bored_**

Phil laughs to himself - he's halfway through replying with one hand and eating his lunchtime sandwich with the other when a picture comes through - Hawkeye on what looks like a dorm room bed, legs open and rock hard cock in hand. Phil nearly chokes on pastrami.

 ** _You're insatiable,_ ** he replies, glad of having his own office. His dick gives a vague twitch but he dissuades it; he's not unprofessional enough to, well.

**Hawkeye616: _I know, I need someone to take care of me, fuck me so good I behave._**

**AmericanCaptain: _I'm at work! Stop being a tease._**

**Hawkeye616: _You like it, I bet you're hard right now thinking about my tight little asshole ;)_**

Phil doesn't respond, taking a moment to go over some figures and calculate the totals in his head just to make sure the computer didn't make a mistake. 

**Hawkeye616: _Play with me :(_**

**AmericanCaptain: _I'd love to play with you, but I'm busy. I didn't even realise I had this turned on._**

**Hawkeye616: _:((((((_**

**Hawkeye616: _:'(_**

Phil glances at the figures again, but ends up rolling his eyes and getting up to lock the door. Dammit. 

**AmericanCaptain: _Alright, tell me what you're doing._**

**Hawkeye616: _Yay_**

**Hawkeye616: _I'm jerking off, thinking about you, daddy_**

 

**AmericanCaptain: _I like when you call me that._**

 

**Hawkeye616: _:D What else do you like?_**

 

**AmericanCaptain: _I like good boys who don't tease, with smooth asses and pretty cocks_**

 

Phil's dick is already in his hand, honest to god hand lotion slicked over it. 

 

**Hawkeye616: _Are you jerking off?_**

 

**AmericanCaptain: _Yes, imagining you under my desk_**

 

**Hawkeye616: _Or on top of it?_**

 

**AmericanCaptain: _mmm yes, begging me for my cock, telling me just how good you can be_**

 

**Hawkeye616: _I like being good for you, daddy._**

The boy sends through a photo of just his face, tongue wet and pink licking over his bottom lip, eyes dark.

Phil's orgasm is something of a surprise, rolling through him and making his knees jerk up and hit the desk hard enough to bruise as he only just manages to get a tissue in place to catch his cum. He's gasping when he balls up the tissue along with a half dozen more and throws them in the trash, grabbing his phone before it automatically turns off to see,

**Hawkeye616: _did u go away or just cum?_**

**_:P_** Phil types, feeling less self conscious than when he used a silly emoticon last night. **_You made me come in my office, you brat._**

**Hawkeye616: _:D I came in my dorm, but that's not as hot_**

Phil glances at the door, tucking himself back into his pants and doing them up again. **_I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Show me?_**

A picture comes through of a hand, cum dripping down the back of it with a college textbook in the background and Phil takes a deep breath. He probably looks a wreck now, and he's sure the guilt of what he just did will be obvious to anyone who looks in his direction for the rest of the day.

 

**AmericanCaptain: _Still there?_**

**Hawkeye616: _Again?! Ur the insatiable one now ;)_**

**AmericanCaptain: _I still have some lunchbreak left, since you finished me off so quickly._**

**Hawkeye616: _And what do u wanna do?_**

**AmericanCaptain: _I'd like to know more about you._**

**Hawkeye616: _Like wat?_**

**AmericanCaptain: _like what you study, what your name is, etc._**

**Hawkeye616: _Names Clint and I study photography. my pics are usually better then what uve seen so far ;)_**

**_Well I like those already,_** Phil replies, smiling. He takes a swig of lukewarm coffee and sits back in his chair. Even with the creepy feeling of having just done something so unprofessional, he feels too good to mind it that much. 

**Hawkeye616: _What abt u? Are u really a captain?_**

**AmericanCaptain: _No, just a Captain America fan. My name is Phil._**

**Hawkeye616: _What do u do?_**

Phil sighs, cause that's boring. 

**AmericanCaptain: _I'm a lawyer._**

**Hawkeye616: _Do u fight for justice!? Slamming down the law in the courtroom like a badass? :)_**

**AmericanCaptain: _Not really, I mostly write contracts for people. It's really boring._**

**Hawkeye616: _I bet u make stacks of cash tho :P_**

**AmericanCaptain: _I wouldn't say STACKS_**

**Hawkeye616: _enough to take a cute boy out?_**

 

Phil smiles to himself, because it's awfully soon, and he's really not had much luck with this kind of thing beyond getting off before, trying not to get too excited as he types his reply:

**_where would you like to go?_ **

**Hawkeye616: _oh, the Ritz, of course, nothing but the finest for ur Boy ;p_**

Phil almost starts replying right then, but stops himself to actually check the website. There's a booking free for the restaurant this evening, so he calls Clint's bluff and clicks on it.

**AmericanCaptain: _How's 8.45 tonight? I'll meet you in the lobby._**

 

**Hawkeye616: _I'll see you there, daddy ;)_**

 

_-_

 

It's close, but Phil manages to get back to his apartment for a shower, a shave and a change of clothes before heading out to meet Clint. He sits in the lobby looking at his phone for a short while, trying not to look at the clock too often. He's nervous, though with long years of practice, he's good at hiding it, and he probably looks like any other guy in the city for business or something. Still, he's filled with relief when someone stops in front of him and says, "Captain?" 

Phil looks up, taking in scuffed leather boots and worn but neat jeans, a tight tshirt under a leather jacket before reaching a face far handsomer in person than it was on the tiny screen of his phone. He smiles and stands, holding out a hand. "Hawkeye." 

Clint grins coyly, taking the proffered hand and shaking it with a firm strength that makes a shiver run through Phil; he's seen the muscles that are under these clothes, but feeling their strength is something quite different. 

 

Phil checks his watch, feeling Clint's eyes watching him. "We'd better go, our reservation's only good til nine." He starts walking towards the elevator, stopping when he realises Clint's not with him. "What?" 

Clint frowns and then slowly, delightfully, grins. "You actually booked a table?" 

"You said you wanted me to take you to dinner," Phil replies, pleased when Clint almost looks bashful. "But if you're not hungry, I booked a room as well." 

Clint looks away, past Phil at the floor somewhere behind him, coming to a decision. He looks up at Phil and smiles, bright and pretty as a flower. "I'm hungry." 

Phil holds an elbow out. "Shall we?" 

Clint takes it and laughs. "Yes, sir." 

 

-

 

The rest of the clientele of the restaurant look much the same as Phil does, and a few give Clint the side-eye when they notice him walk by. Phil feels a little embarrassed for him, but he's glad that Clint doesn't seem to have a care in the world for what these strangers think. 

 

"This is a nice place," Clint says, looking around before being drawn back to the vast views out into the dark city around them. It's all lights - cars, windows, streetlamps, and it's gorgeous. "Wish I had my camera." 

"What kind of camera do you have?"

"An old SLR. She's kind of… temperamental, but I love her."

Phil pulls a face, because he doesn't really know what that means. Clint laughs. "Analog," he explains. "Old fashioned, photos developed by hand, the whole bit. It's all digital now but there's a real magic to the old ways, I think." He shrugs. "I like that you never know quite what you're gonna get til the negatives come through, and you only have a few dozen chances to get the picture before you have to switch film." 

 

"So you like old things." 

Clint laughs again, tipping his head to look at Phil coquettishly. "Vintage. _Classic_." 

Phil smiles down at his hands, and then a waiter comes by with menus and a wine list. 

"Would you like a cocktail?" Phil asks. 

Clint waits for the waiter to disappear before reaching across to stroke one finger along the back of Phil's hand. Phil has to suppress a shiver. "You don't have to loosen me up, daddy. I'm a sure thing." 

Phil breathes out very slowly. "You barely know me, young man. What if you find I'm a horrible monster? Or I spit when I eat?" 

Clint sits back, still smiling. "I sincerely doubt you spit when you eat." 

 

The waiter returns and takes their orders, though Phil's not entirely sure what it is he asks for, too focussed on Clint's _everything_. He almost misses Clint ordering a bottle of wine, shaking his head when he realises Clint just spoke French. 

Clint shrugs. "I wait tables sometimes," he explains. "You pick up stuff." 

 

"What other hidden talents do you have?" Phil asks, trying not to focus too hard on how much it excites him that Clint just dropped $90 of Phil’s money on wine. He holds up a finger before Clint can answer. "You know what I mean." 

Clint pouts. "I'm at college because of an archery scholarship, bunch of bursaries and stuff. Used to be in the circus so I can do all those things like trapeze, juggling, ball-walking - which is not as sordid as it sounds." 

"The circus?" 

Clint rolls his eyes, like he's so accustomed to people getting stuck on the circus that he's bored of the subject. "For a little while. Anyway, what about you?" He waggles his fingers in Phil's direction. "Any special talents I should know about?" 

 

The wine arrives, which gives Phil a convenient out. He's no good at talking about himself. Confessing his more nerdy traits is hardly a turn on for anyone, and his job isn't particularly glamorous either. Luckily, wine makes a good segway into a toast. "To new beginnings," Clint says, clinking glasses with Phil and winking. 

 

It's really good wine. 

 

"What do you do?" Clint asks.

Phil takes a breath and smoothes out the table cloth beneath his glass. "Well, you already know I'm a lawyer, but my days are spent mostly working out terms for contracts, ironing out loopholes, that kind of thing. There's a lot of paperwork." 

"Do you like it?" 

"...Nobody really asks me that," Phil replies. Most of his friends do similar work, after all. "I suppose it can be a bit… tiresome. Especially when it's something that seems petty, like business partners arguing over minutia and causing weeks of re-writes." 

"But it pays well, I bet?" 

Phil smiles at that, because yes, there is that.

 

Their food arrives, and Phil finds himself trying not to stare at the way Clint eats the venison sausages he ordered, though he's clearly doing it for Phil's benefit, so he doesn't feel too bad about it.

"Are you worried that _I'm_ not a sure thing?" 

Clint grins from around the sausage he's fellating before biting it. 

"I don't know what you mean." 

 

They skip dessert.

 

Phil pays and they head out, back down to the lobby and into a different elevator, up to the room Phil has yet to check out. Before they get there, Clint insinuates himself into Phil's space, sliding his hands underneath Phil's jacket and rubbing his thumbs into the small of his back. "Thank you for dinner," he whispers against Phil's lips, dodging his head backwards when Phil tries to kiss him. Clint grins when Phil threads one hand into Clint's hair and holds him still for a deep kiss, wine-stained tongues sliding together hungrily. 

 

The elevator dings when they reach their floor, and Phil takes Clint's hand as they walk down the hallway to their room. 

 

They're hardly in the door before Clint has Phil's lapels in his hands and is pulling him close, backing himself up against the wall with Phil boxing him in. He bites his bottom lip and moans, and as much of a show it is, the whole thing sends electricity up and down Phil's spine. 

 

"Please, Daddy, I need it," Clint whines, pulling at Phil til he closes the distance and kisses him again. Clint lets go of Phil's jacket in favour of sliding his hands around Phil's waist and pulling him in more forcefully, til Phil's entire body is flush with Clint's, and he's rubbing his thigh between Phil's legs. 

"What do you need?" Phil asks, voice indulgent and soft, though no less teasing for it. 

"Dessert." 

 

Phil's not sure why he's so slow with everything, when he's just as desperate to get Clint naked as he seems to be, but every time Phil slows Clint's hands with his own, Clint makes the most perfect little noises, and he wants more of them, wants to hear every plea and whine and breathless 'daddy' that he can.

 

Phil presses Clint onto the bed, shorn of his leather jacket and boots kicked off. He keeps trying to open the fly of his jeans and free the erection that Phil's sure must be painful beneath the unforgiving fabric, but Phil keeps batting his hands away, eventually pushing both of them up above Clint's head and holding them there with one hand whilst the other flicks open the button. Clint bucks his hips at that, but makes no move to shake Phil off, which he could easily do judging by the strength held in those arms of his.

 

"God, look at you," Phil murmurs, as much to himself as for Clint's benefit. He slips his hand into Clint's pants and cups the heated, hard cock there. "So hard for me." 

Clint shivers beneath him and moves his arms, making Phil's loose hold on them fall away. He cups Phil's jaw and guides him down for a kiss, which Phil gladly gives. 

"Please let me suck your dick," Clint says, no small amount of impatience running through his voice. Phil lets him roll them over, so that Clint's straddling him. "I've been thinking about it, all day," he explains, like it's some kind of favour. 

 

Phil moves to unbuckle his belt, but Clint gets there first, grabbing Phil's hands and then kissing them. Phil squeezes Clint's shoulders for a moment before tugging at Clint's tshirt. Phil's in no hurry to get naked himself, not when Clint's body is so incandescent in comparison to his own, but Clint doesn't seem to mind it, running his hands down the front of Phil's shirt before slipping nimble fingers around the zipper of his pants and tugging it down. He looks so serious as he slides his hand in to pull Phil's cock free of its confines, concentrating hard so as not to hurt Phil with his surprisingly delicate touch. 

 

He sits back once he has Phil how he seems to want him, fully clothed but for his dick standing proud, and Clint looks up and down Phil's body once he's laid out beneath him, smoothing out Phil's tie like it matters. "Is this a thing?" Phil asks, happy if it is, happy if it's not.

"Do you mind it?" Clint replies, still looking serious as he meets Phil's gaze. "I promise I won't make a mess of your suit." 

Phil laughs. "I don't care about my suit." 

 

Clint makes a wrecked sound, and Phil doesn't really understand it but reaches for him anyway, pulling him down for a heated kiss that just draws out more sweet little helpless sounds from Clint. "You could tear my suit to shreds, I wouldn't care."

 

"No!" Clint whines, kissing his way down Phil's body, over his clothes til he reaches Phil's dick. He gazes lovingly at it for a moment, flicking his eyes up to check that Phil's watching before holding his gaze and licking a slow, broad stripe up. Phil's eyes shutter closed and he makes a decidedly undignified sound, though neither of these things stop Clint, who, once Phil can open his eyes again, has his own eyes closed, and his mouth wrapped around his dick. 

 

"Jesus," Phil pants, convinced he's going to come embarrassingly quickly, especially once Clint finds his hands and puts them on his shoulders again. The smooth, warm skin of them under Phil's fingers, and the brush of Clint's hair when he cups the back of his neck are like something out of a dream, too good all at once so that they blur into something unfathomable.

 

"Is it good?" Clint breaks off to ask, and Phil's fingers spasm in his hair with the strain of not putting him right back where he was. "Am I a good boy?" 

Phil can feel his orgasm building, heat curling around his nerves all the way down to his fingers and toes. "Yes, Clint. Such a good boy. Perfect, wonderful boy," and so on he goes, once Clint's sucking him again, only stopping when his toes are cracking and he's not able to form actual words anymore. He manages to tug at Clint's hair before he comes, but Clint just sucks him through it, moaning as Phil bucks into his mouth a half dozen times, feeling his orgasm literally being sucked out of him. 

 

Phil blinks a few times, thinking maybe he blacked out for a moment, just about finding his voice to tell Clint, "C'mere." 

 

Clint crawls up beside him, suddenly not nearly as bold as he was before Phil came so hard he saw stars. He's lost the jeans and has his cock in his hand, carefully avoiding rubbing the wet tip against Phil's clothes. 

"What are you doing?" Phil asks.

"What's it look like?" 

Phil pulls Clint close for a kiss, licking his lips when he tastes himself, rolling them over again so he's leaning up and looking down Clint's body. 

"I'm going to take my jacket off, is that alright?" 

Clint gives him a shy smile. "Ok." 

Phil loses the jacket, draping it carefully over a spare bit of bed before tucking his wet cock back in his pants and kicking his shoes off. Clint watches him, one hand working his cock and the other resting on his chest, til Phil returns and pushes Clint’s hands back above his head. 

 

"Can I suck your cock, Clint?" 

Clint looks at him like he's nuts for asking, as if he's surprised that Phil would want to. " _Yeah_." 

Phil swallows and then kisses Clint's jaw, drags his teeth down his neck and onto his chest, which he works his way down slowly. Clint stops him with a hand on his shoulder, picking up Phil's tie where it's dangling from his neck and gently placing it over his shoulder. It's such a sweet gesture it makes Phil's breath catch, and hope far too soon that he can _keep_ Clint, make him look at him like this all the time. 

 

Phil rubs his face down Clint's belly, over smooth skin that never coarsens with hair even when he's nosing at the base of Clint's dick. He kisses him there and Clint gasps. "I - I wax. I hope you don't mind." 

"I know, I like it." He kisses there again, then the other side, soft, sensitive skin that's a delight under Phil's lips. Next he moves down, pushing Clint's legs open so he can kiss the delicate skin inside his thighs, up to his hips and back again with the occasional detour to nose around Clint's perfectly smooth balls. 

"You're such a tease," Clint says, when Phil once again moves away from Clint's cock. 

"I'll give you whatever you want, Clint," Phil promises, licking his lips under Clint's heated gaze. "Just say the word and you'll have it." 

"Your mouth?" 

"And what do you want me to do with my mouth?" 

"S-suck me," he whines, "please?" 

 

With one last kiss to the soft skin of his balls, Phil shifts, sucking Clint down in one glorious movement. Clint twitches in his mouth, and Phil gives him a few long, slowly withdrawing sucks, never quite letting him leave his mouth all together before sinking back down and starting again.

 

"Fuck yes," Clint breathes above him as he fists the sheets where his hands are still so obediently resting over his head. "Yes!" 

 

Phil drools a little when Clint rolls his hips up towards him, but he drags his thumb through the slick of it and presses it underneath Clint's balls, rubbing over his perfectly smooth perineum. Clint does most of the work thereafter, with Phil more or less keeping himself still as Clint fucks his mouth and rubs against his thumb. Phil feels Clint's balls tighten as his thrusts begin to get erratic, and he comes when one thrust drives Phil's thumb down far enough to slide across his asshole. If Phil hadn't come minutes earlier, he'd have been able to coordinate himself enough to catch Clint's cum in his mouth, or at the very least direct it somewhere (Clint's belly, Phil's face) but as it is, it goes just about everywhere - Phil's hair, his shirt, the bed, Clint's chest. 

 

 

"S'rry," Clint murmurs helplessly when Phil joins him further up the bed. "Th'nk I j'st died." 

Phil wraps his arm across Clint, heedless of the messy drops here and there as he pulls him close. "I hope not, you're much too pretty for that." 

"F'r dying?" 

Phil noses along Clint's neck and kisses him just below his ear. "M-hmm. _Much_ too pretty." 

 

-

 

They fall asleep for a little while, long enough that Clint winces when Phil pulls his arm away and his shirt's stuck to his skin. "Sorry," Phil laughs, stretching before sitting up. Clint rolls over onto his belly before blinking up at him. 

"Do you wanna have a shower together?" he asks. 

Phil thinks about it before nodding yes, though he can feel himself already slipping too far into this little fantasy. 

 

Clint kneels up on the bed and seems to relish getting Phil out of his clothes, after his insistence that he keep them on earlier. There are a few kisses peppered here and there, but Clint's efficient about it, getting Phil naked before pulling him towards the bathroom. It's a tight fit, the two of them in one small shower, but the whole thing devolves into giggles and tickling pretty quickly, which Phil is more than happy about. He discovers if he presses right under Clint's ribs, he can make him squeal, and Clint finds out one of Phil's few ticklish spots (the small of his back) almost immediately, which he uses in gleeful retaliation. 

 

Eventually, once they're both mostly clean, having towelled one another off and wrapped themselves in hotel bathrobes, Phil sits back on the bed with the room service menu. Clint sits to one side, snuggling close when Phil puts an arm around him. "What are we having, Daddy?"

Phil inhales at that, pressing a kiss to Clint's damp hair. "I like when you call me that." 

 

Clint grins with no small trace of self-satisfaction, and Phil kisses him again. 

"What do you like, Clint?" 

"Burger sounds good," he replies, looking at the menu.

Phil nods, satisfied with the re-direct. Probably best not to get too attached anyhow; boys like Clint, in Phil's experience, don't tend to stick around for long, not when someone with a bigger wallet or a nicer car can lure them away. 

 

-

 

They sleep together that first night, and as long as it's been since Phil slept with another person through the night, it's easy, somehow. He curses himself in the morning though, when the cold light of day illuminates how ruined his shirt is and how shortsighted it was not to bring a spare. 

"Clint," he says softly, rousing Clint from his angelic sleep. "I have to go to work." 

He blinks awake and looks at Phil, half dressed in his stiff shirt and miraculously un-ruined trousers. "Your shirt," he says, sounding dismayed at its sorry state. 

Phil smiles. "It'll come out in the wash, don't worry." 

He throws his tie around his neck and begins to tie it, but discovers a stain on that, too. A hand sneaks out from the covers and grabs it, pulling it closer and grousing at the mark. "I'm sorry." 

"It's fine, I'll take you shopping and you can pick out a new one for me some time." 

Clint's eyes light up, at the prospect of spending more time together, or just of spending Phil's money, Phil's not sure. 

"You want to see me again?" 

Phil kneels on the bed to bend over and properly kiss Clint good morning. "I would love to." 

 

He busies himself with getting dressed and writing his phone number down on a piece of hotel stationery, but Clint gets there first, still laying in bed when Phil turns to give him the note, holding both their phones. "I put my number into your phone," he says, “and yours into mine." He flips his own and grins. Phil's number is in Clint's phone under the name 'Daddy'. 

 

"I'm sorry I have to go, I need to go home and change; didn't want to jinx anything by preparing for too much last night."

"Does that mean next time there'll be condoms?" 

"Next time there'll be anything you want." 

"If I'm good?" 

Phil licks his lips and lets his eyes linger over the perfect shape Clint cuts against the white sheets.

"I think you'll be good." 

 

Clint sits up in bed, grinning. "I promise, daddy."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this could continue but I'm not sure where it should go! If you have any suggestions let me know in a comment? :)


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